Just a trim?

This time last year my hair was truly awful. Split ends, uneven fringe, the whole thing needed some love. I had left it far too long and it had soon become a disaster.

I couldn't get in at my usual hairdresser and couldn't wait the 6 weeks until her next available appointment so I pulled up Google and found the nearest hairdresser.

Ring, ring. 'Hi, do you have anything available today?'

Nope.

Called the next one, nothing.

3 calls later and finally someone could take me in that day.

1pm, an hour later, perfect.

I waited patiently in the designated seat next to the fake palm tree and dusty shampoo and conditioner samples that sat on the wobbly white flat pack shelves.

'Ash?' A lady in all black with bright red hair came out from behind the basins.

'That's me!' I jumped to my feet, ready for my mop of a hairdo to be chopped and cherished into shape.

She sat me down, I placed my wallet and phone on the small shelf under the mirror trying not to look at my reflection too much.

As we made small talk about the recent sunshine we'd had, I noticed under her black apron, that was fixed around her waist, there sat a little bump. I hadn't noticed it from behind, she was barely showing.

I wish I had been able to keep my figure while I was pregnant with my first. I swear the weight went to my ankles first, then bum, thighs then fiiiinally to my boobs. By the time I was ready to pop I looked like a bottom heavy balloon that had been left behind the couch after a child's birthday party.

Yet here was this lovely young girl barely showing except the perfect baby bump protruding from the front. She was so lucky.

More small talk about the weather, an upcoming long weekend, my plans, then her plans, she was taking her kids to a theme park near by for the first time. She said she'd be going on her favourite ride, the Giant Drop. A rollercoaster of sorts that took you all the way up, 100 metres in the sky before - you guessed it - dropping.

'Oh, do you think it's safe to do that?'

She smiled at me through the mirror. 'Of course it is! They test them regularly, I'm sure it's perfectly safe.'

'No, I-' I gestured at her belly, 'I mean, in your condition.'

She stopped mid chop and the smile left her face.

'My condition?'

'Yes, I-' I shifted in my seat. 'With one on the way and all.'

She stared at me in silence.

'Oh, I mean,' I adjusted the cape's hem, looking anywhere but her reflection in the mirror. 'You can hardly tell, I certainly couldn't tell from behind.'

All of a sudden my palms felt clammy. I could feel them sweating underneath the crisp black cape.

She straightened her mouth into a frosty smile, adjusted the apron and began combing and snipping away at my split ends.

'No love,' she said coldly. 'I just had a big lunch.'

I gulped hard and stared at the shelf in front of me for the rest of the cut.

I learned three things that day.

Never ever assume someone is pregnant.

Never assume the person in charge of your appearance is pregnant.

Never assume the person in charge of your appearance is pregnant without leaving a rather large tip for your mistake.

Suffice to say I took up my regular hairdresser's next available appointment and didn't even think about them, let alone mention children.